PercyAnnabeth 100 Themes
by Phyco girl
Summary: A series of oneshots.
1. Introduction

**Theme 01: Introduction**

She watched him, waiting with only the slightest indication of impatience. Admittedly, she had grown restless over the last couple of days... She drummed her fingers on the edge of her knees and studied the room critically. The bedside lamp cast dim loops of light over the room, circling slowly over the starched bedsheets; daylight reached only briefly beyond the blinds which were pulled tight over the window panes. The room smelled of bleach and the distant aroma of strawberries. And, in the wake of it all, was the boy, his face obscured by a mop of dark, unruly hair...It had been weeks now since the night that he had crossed the boundary line, and still she had drawn no conclusions. A turn and the occasional mumble her best leads. Frustrated, she pushed against the back of the chair she'd been sitting in, sneakers squeaking against the speckled linoleum.

This time, she decided, she was determined to ask. Nobody would hear.

Releasing a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, she rested her palms against the mattress, her fingertips lightly prodding his arm. She bit her lip and slowly leaned towards him. It was now or never. "What will happen at the summer solstice?" Right away she knew that this was a stupid question. What would _he_ know? More importantly, how was she expecting him to relay this to her? Through subconscious grumbles? She balked at her own stupidity, making to step away--

"What?" The voice was raspy and thick like syrup but easy enough to understand. Startled, she turned around, surprised to find he was awake.

Hasty, she planted her elbows on the edge of the bed and ignored the creases she was making in the faded blue quilt. "_What's going on? What was stolen? We only have a few weeks!_" she whispered, tripping over her own words. She watched with disappointment as he shook his head slowly, squinting at her increduously.

"I'm sorry-- I don't..."

But she didn't wait to hear the rest of what he planned to say. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be of any use to her. No need to torture the kid while she was at it. She stood up and smoothed the sheets where they had been rumpled, pacing toward the door. Her hand grasped for the knob, and it turned smoothly, heaving the door open with a soft creak. One foot already outside, she thought better of herself and pivoted on her heel.

"Nice to meet you."


	2. Love

**Theme 02: Love **

By then I'd remembered her words perfectly; knew them exactly the way they had come out of the the goddess's perfectly poised mouth. Even then I couldn't help but imagine her coy smile and the feeling of being her next...project, _"Really, how boring these hunters are! A quest for some monster, blah blah blah. Saving Artemis. Let her stay lost, I say. But a quest for true love–"_

"A quest for true love" Was that it? Aphrodite had thought so at least. The eerie thing was how sure of herself she'd seemed, throwing out words like...love so easily. There was no reason, at least I thought, for her to even think of it. Ithought the reason I'd saved Annabeth was the same reason that I'd saved Grover. I went on that quest because she was my _friend_.

Lost in the turmoil of my own thoughts, I hardly noticed the several impatient knocks echoing from the door. Already feeling a bit uneasy, I glanced fleetingly at the doorknob, as if expecting it to speak to me. "Hey, Seaweed Brain," it demanded, rattling about, "Open up!" _Annabeth._ I grimaced.

She tried the door again, "Percy? Are you alright?"

The more I focused on ignoring her, the more I could see the movement of the air, weaving in and out of itself until if formed an illusion, surely a mirage... Aphrodite, her lips stretching into a sympathetic smile. I closed my eyes for a second, hoping this might help ease my possible insanity a bit, but when I opened them again I was disappointed to see her still hovering there.

_"In denial, Percy?"_ She... spoke? I struggled for a moment, but managed to look her in the eye; she seemed to be looking back.

I stood up.

_"Exquisitely painful isn't it? Not knowing who you love and who loves you."_

I heard my sneakers scuff against the polished concrete.

_"I have some wonderful surprises in store: anguish. Indecision. You just wait."_

Against my better judgement, my hand was reaching for the doorknob.

_"You love her, don't you?"_

I hoped she wouldn't knock the door down... By the sounds coming from the other side, I wouldn't be surprised.

_"It's not hard, just follow your heart." _I sighed, the knob turned in my palm and gave way. Aphrodite winked, not at all disheartened by my state of disarray and indecision. It was probably what she wanted anyway.

Therefore, I blame her _entirely_ for Annabeth's sneaker in my face.


	3. Light

**Theme 03: Light**

Eyes wander along the waves, and he rests his head on his knees, watching the last light of the day dance along the water. The sea is quietly churning, reaching tenatively for shore with each relapse. Lingering thoughts fall from his lips in slow breaths, eyes surrendurring the fight to stay conscious.

"Drooling _again,_ Seaweed Brain," she chides. He can almost hear the smirk on her face.

She holds back the sigh on her lips, instead letting her legs slip out from under her until she sits beside him. It's silent for a moment as he straightens himseff out and stares ahead without greeting, looking flustered. She smiles.

He's never fooled her anyways.


	4. Dark

**Theme 04: Dark**

She's startled in the middle of the night. Sweat making loose pieces of blonde hair stick to the side of her face. The sheets are clutched to her knees, and she stares blankly into the darkness surrounding her. The linens drop in her lap as she wipes clammy palms against the comforter. A dream. That was all it was. And dreams have little to do with real life, she reminds herself though she knows she's lying. For a halfblood, that's never the case.

She stumbles over the creaks in the mattress, swinging her legs over the side of her bunk. The air is still and musky, and she can barely make out the strangled snores of her half brothers, but she manages to blindly feel her way to the door frame, grasping the brass knob tightly. Somehow, the door opens and she steps out onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind her. Outside it's warm and muggy, and the moon bathes the camp grounds in a faint light, stars spotlighting. Carefully, she decends the porch steps, following the map in her head. Right turn, now left. Straight a several paces. Ascend the stairs. Walk forward. Open the door. Step inside. But, to her personal aggrivation, she finds the trip increasingly difficult to complete. The steps creak too much. The porch is too dark. The doorknob is too slippery. She makes too much noise upon entering and leaves the door wide open so that anyone could see in, but this doesn't occur to her. She's determined to just get this over with.

"_Percy?_" she whispers, even though her voice is barely audible, a murmur, he replies with a tired groan. She props herself casually against his bed post, prepared to launch into a tireade of dialogue and...he snores--asleep. Frustrated, she kneels beside him and leans forward to close the space between them, hair falling gently over her shoulder to brush the side of his face. She purses her lips in a frown, wrinkles her nose in disgust, and flicks him in the forehead.

_**"Percy!"**_

He yawns and opens one eye to stare at her, then the other if only to glower. Unconcered with whether he wants her there or not, she positions herself at the edge of the matress. She opens her mouth to speak... but stops herself. Is she insane? What is she supposed to actually..._say_? _I had a dream, you have infinite knowledge on this subject, enlighten me?_ She balks--yeah, right.

"I--uhmm," she starts, tripping over her own sentences, "I--"

_HHHUUAAHHHHHHH..._

He's snoring. She sighs, content to resign, and stands up. The door slams shut behind her, and before she knows it she is in her own cabin, thick with the scent of honey and spring air. She sinks into her pillow and reprimands herself.

What was she expecting anyways?


	5. Seeking Solace

**Theme 05: Seeking Solace**

Even at the age of six, Annabeth Chase knew that Cinderella was a fraud. The glass slippers, fairy godmother, and even the happily ever after were fabricated from an adult's carefully spun lies. How did she know? Annabeth thought herself much akin to Miss Cinderella, up until the plot began, of course. However, unlike fairy-tale Cinderella, she had come to terms with reality much earlier. There was no happy ending, and so instead of talking, seamstress mice she was content seeking solace from books.

Books, unfortunately, like Cinderella.

Annabeth clenched her eyes shut in agitation. The book fell from her hands and onto the mattress in a cloud of dust, causing the bedsprings to heave. The old yellow binding was bent at an uncomfortable angle, and its blue laquered cover glinted violently, as if scolding her on her irrefutable lack of manners. She ignnored it, instead peering a few feet ahead. She still hadn't opened it.

The box had seemed relatively inoffensive at first glance. Faded brown cardboard, of medium size, just a bit heavy. It was postmarked, stamped a few times and held an equally inoffensive white label on its front. Yes, she had thought it quite normal until she had seen the sender: Percy Jackson. She scowled.

That...that _jerk _could at least let her know he was sending her something for Christmas instead of forcing her to feel stupid and guilty about it. She could have sent it back, of course, but how could she? Wouldn't that just make her feel more guilty? It really wouldn't do much for either of them. She frowned. Stupid boys--But, seeing as she couldn't do anything about it... She sifted through the packing peanuts, finally grasping something solid in her left hand.

Architecture Through the Ages. Huh.

She held the text at eye level, scrutinizing it quietly. Suddenly, her eyes dropped to the floor as a folded piece of paper fell from between the pages. She unfolded it, scanned it, and shared a laugh with herself. So it was on sale, was it? She chewed at her lip. His handwriting looked odd on the page, on a note to her... Shaking her head, she smiled as she folded the note into a pagemarker and nursed the book in her arms.

How strangely comforting.


	6. Stripe

**Theme 06: Stripe**

Red and white stripes snap to pieces between gritted teeth and plastic; her face falling from its eager expression as tiny bits of peppermint stick to their chariot plans.

"Uh, Wise Girl, isn't it a little late for candy canes?" he asks, a skeptical expression crossing his face. Annabeth stares back at the boy beside her and sighs, situating her hands behind herself and stretching her feet forward.

"Well, not really," she pauses, "It's kind of like... well, you see, back when we were on the run, Luke, Thalia, and I used to store a lot of them on us-- they're cheap and they never go bad. Just nostalgia I guess."she finishes casually as she sets one half of the candy cane down in the cool summer grass, plastic crinkling and sticking stubbornly to her fingers. Percy looks at her with a tinge of disgust when he catches the reference to him. _Luke_.

That's who the other half is for, right?

He stares at the carefully wrapped candy, face churning though a cycle of expressions... So _what_ if Annabeth is still hung up on Luke? What's _he _supposed to do about it? An unnoticed smile passes through her lips.

"You want it?"

"Huh?"

She holds back a grin, carefully picking up the sticky mess by her fingertips.

"The other half," she rolls her eyes, "I bit through the plastic, I swear...it won't kill you, Seaweed Brain." He looks confused, and she's about to take back the offer when he interrupts, almost startling her.

"Sure."

There was no use saving it anyways.


	7. Heaven

**Theme 07: Heaven**

_Faith is, at on__e and the same time,_

_absolutely necessary and altogether impossible._

Heaven, Sally reflected, was something that took a lot of hope, a lot of faith, to believe in. But, most importantly, it took Christianity. Something she hadn't been interested in for a very long time.

She remembered, when Percy was just shy of seven, the event of Sunday Mass. She had found a small cathedral nestled just outside of the city. The car ride was long, but worth it, she figured, to give her son_ some_ kind of belief system. This often turned into a day long event. One in which Percy would attend Sunday school while Sally made polite conversation and ran a couple of unfinished errands. There were always a few.

But, needless to say, such a routine did not last long. She knew it wouldn't. And though she tried to smile when Percy recited a verse or said the prayer at mealtimes, she always ended up grimacing instead. Because no matter how much he loved it right now, it would end…soon. And he would know it was his fault.

After a few months they had stopped going altogether. For his own good, she assured herself. After all, faith was just one aspect of a person's well being. And the incidence of it in their lives dropped off easily. He hadn't believed in heaven, God, or anything else since. And though sometimes it would bother her to think about it, she was content enough with things as they were.

Which is why she was surprised, if anything, to see Annabeth in her kitchen that morning. Though, it was not the fact that she was _there_ that troubled her, but instead the way her son was behaving. She watched as the girl went on about something… and then how Percy smiled and looked at her. She hadn't seen him like this in years.

As she stepped back into her bedroom, it occurred to Sally Jackson that her son was placing his faith somewhere, something he hadn't done in a very long time. And, just maybe, he was finally growing up.


	8. Cute

**_AN:_** Sorry! But this turned out to be another long one! Actually I don't know if I should be sorry or what. Well, I'm sorry for the long delay! D: School's been crazy with registration and all the teachers piling up their projects at once (do they plan these things?) and I haven't been able to get much done, but SOON (not a month like this time v.v) I'll get up some shorter ones!

I love all you guys for reviewing, I think I'll answer reviews in my next one ! Plus, aren't you guys glad about all the growing PJO fanfiction? I am! But it's made my story go to, like, place 16 in updates X.X!

Ahhh! Good thing though, or I probably wouldn't have updated today :D! Anyways, hope you enjoy it, as per usual! Any sort of review is appreciated (unless it's just plain rude and unhelpful aka: flame :P).

PS: Did you know this chapter is 1111 words (or somewhere around there!)? Weird, huh? At this rate, I'll have to change my summary!

_**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own PJO I promise!!!_

**PercyAnnabeth 100 themes**

**Theme 08: Cute**

_"What do you think about Annabeth Chase."_

I was speaking in the same drawn out tone and measured pace, and at the time I wasn't even bothering with that whole "inquisitive mentality" deal anymore. Instead I was silently pleading for someone to:

**SAVE **

**ME **

**NOW**

I know, I know, a little dramatic, but I had to at least _try _it. While all this was going on inside my head, the guy I was asking (who was probably confused as to why I was even asking him this in the first place) raised one of his eyebrows.

_How do people do that?_

"You mean, that girl from Athena cabin?" he finally answered. I just nodded like I knew which girl he was even talking about, but I didn't waste my time listening to his reply. I instead opted to play back the moment I was forced into this. The _this _that was way worse than fighting any monster. The _this _that, frankly, was making my stomach question the thought of dinner.

Basically, that means this was pretty bad.

XoxoX

"And what's your point?"

She had queried, narrowing her grey eyes. I _hate it_ when she does that. It was like she was looking right through me to see what made me tick, and like I said before: I did _NOT _like it.

We were sitting outside Zeus' daughter's—err, Thalia's, room in the hospital wing of the Big House. Everyone had just found her and now, well, here we (well, Annabeth and me) sat. I guess somehow we had gotten into some sort of lame argument about her. This was pretty idiotic on my part. I should have known by now Annabeth was _The Queen of Debate_.

"I'm just saying she might be, well, moody!" I had defended hurriedly with a quick glance to the side (if only to get away from that whole eye ordeal for a moment), "I mean, _anyone_ would be after being a **TREE**, a _tree _Annabeth, for more than half a decade!" I was pretty satisfied with this comeback, but I don't think she was. She just sat there, narrowing her eyes even further until it stopped being scary and looked like she was squinting at me instead.

"**_Or_** because of all the stares."

"The _what_?"

Annabeth just relinquished her "look" and sighed in annoyance. "Well, after so long, you'd expect that she would get a couple of stares from the people around camp. I mean, how would you feel if you were—or," here she paused for a moment, "How did you feel when everyone knew you were the son of one of the Big Three?"

Okay, I knew she was trying to be sensitive and everything, which is pretty hard for a girl so skilled at giving the death glare, but Wise Girl wasn't getting the picture. And that picture just happened to have a pine tree in it, **OK**?

"I don't think being the daughter of one of the Big Three has anything to do with her being moody. I _still _think it's the tree thing—" I was interrupted by the sound of dozens upon dozens of feet coursing through the camp grounds, probably in the direction of the dining hall. So much for the conch.

"Look Percy," Annabeth started again, ignoring the noise of the campers and my currently unsatisfied stomach, "people will stare at Thalia because she's Zeus' daughter. They'll assume she'll be all moody, because of..." For a moment her gaze turned to the starch-white ceiling, and then she nodded at me like I should get the point.

I didn't.

"_You know_, all the thunder. It's just like the stereotypes that have _always_ been around camp: Athena cabin is smart, Aphrodite cabin is vain, and Ares cabin is hostile. See? It has nothing to do with pine trees."

With a deep breath after the brief ranting and one last look at Thalia's closed door, she heaved a sigh and stood up, stretching her arms upward. And then, without even a backwards glance, she began to walk away.

I scoffed in her direction. Did she ALWAYS have to get the last word in? In a fit of anger I mumbled:

"Not _everyone_ thinks you're so smart..." I leaned my hands on my knees, about to stand up myself. Unfortunately, this was a VERY stupid thing to say—even more foolish than usual. You see, in addition to being a professional in the debate arena, Annabeth apparently also has extremely sharp hearing.

"_Excuse_ me?" Annabeth snapped with a quick spin and, once again, those inquisitive eyes. I _knew_ something like this would happen, "Want the last word Percy Jackson?" she yelled down the hall towards me, "**Fine**. If you think you're so smart, go ahead and ask everybody at dinner tonight _exactly_ what they think about me."

She then stomped over to where I was standing, angrily grabbed my hand, and began pulling me along towards the dining hall. "And don't forget, **_I'm right_**." she added.

And I couldn't help but feel that it was more than unnecessary.

XoxoX

"_**Look**_, are you going to say something or not?" I was getting impatient, both from the painful reminiscing and from standing there way too long.

"Dude, I _told you_ already!" groaned the kid, rolling his eyes at me, "Geez, I said she's kind of cute okay?" He was about to turn back to his siblings when he swooshed his head back around and added in, "Oh, and she's from Athena cabin?"

I nodded, slightly annoyed at the fact that he had asked that same question about 5 minutes ago.

"Then I guess she must be smart too." He said with a shrug. But if he had anything else to say, I didn't hear it. Instead I sighed in defeat. Annabeth was right; everyone _did _think she was smart just because of her mom. I started to wonder what that made me...

'_Smart_,' I thought to myself, still standing there, '_Well, Annabeth **is** pretty __smart.'_

I didn't like it, but I had to face it: I had lost. I 'd been beaten by Annabeth for what seemed like the millionth time already.

_'Wait, he also said something else. What was it?' _

I had almost forgotten. Maybe some people thought she was more than just smart-- did this mean I won?! Now I just had to think of what it was. I knew it started with a C. In my head, I started to think of all the adjectives I knew of,

_'Clever? Cool? Cannibalistic?'_

_Nah_

_'Err..Crazy? Creative?Cute?'_

_None of it sounded right... _

_'No. Wait... Cute...cute..._**CUTE?**_ Her?' _It sounded right-- the guy had said, err, _cute_, but how could... she...that was just...

I stood there baffled and a little disgusted for a moment until, thankfully, Mr. D interrupted by snarling an especially nasty, "SIT BACK DOWN PETER JOHNSON!" I did, but, unthankfully, it didn't stop me from contemplating what the guy had said. Cute? What had he meant? Her necklace was cute? Her cabin was cute? Her _mom_ was cute? **NO**, then what...

"_Hey, Percy,_" came a hurried whisper, startling me from my state of unrelenting puzzlement.

"What," I asked, tone slightly annoyed, as Annabeth quickly sat herself next to me. "Wise Girl? _Helllllllloooooo?_" For a minute she looked as if she were figuring something out in her head, like some weird, complicated math problem, but then, all at once, she turned to me and narrowed her eyes into the "look". _Again._

"What did they say?"

There was a pause as I thought about it, then, noticing her version of the death glare mumbled, "Just stop looking at me like that, okay Wise Girl?" With a roll of her eyes she stopped and I sighed. "They, um, said you were smart just like you said they would, alright?" _And one guy said you were... **cute.**_ I shuddered. "Once again, Annabeth is right and Percy is _W.R.O.N.G_."

There was a slight pause before her face brightened up, and the corners of her mouth turned upward into a smile. "Now _that's_ what I like to hear, Seaweed Brain," she chirped, beaming almost menacingly before adding, "Anything else?"

I thought for a minute. Should I? Shouldn't I? I glanced towards Annabeth's gleaming eyes, not so evil anymore. She looked almost eager. I knew what I was going to do. Without a second thought, I grinned right back in that menacing sort of way and said:

"Nope."

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

AN: Hope you got that whole subtle-ty thing! Maybe I should change the rating? Nah, better keep it just in case (winkwink). Just kidding (?)!

Theme 8 was weird, wasn't it? I kind of had a hard time writing it U.U. Anyways, here's the next one!!!:

Drumroll puh-leeze!

_Da-ta-dum-da-ta-dum-da-ta-dum-da-ta-dum-dummmmmm!_

_THE NEXT THEME IS:_ **DRIVE!**

I was going to interpret it as drive as in someone's competitive nature, but then again, driving cars? Go-carts? Magical creatures? What do you think?

Hope you read it all (without your brain exploding)!,

Phyco girl


	9. Drive

**AN:**_ Hey guys! What's up? Well, over here I've got lots of free time since it's spring break, so when the next 5 reviews come along I'll update-y date! I'll get to comments about how I think this turned out after since I don't want to point out all the stuff and ruin your reading experience D: . _

_However, this one is shorter (754 words!) and less fluffy (I think the fluff bunnies were starting to eat at my brain-- so sorry!) than my previous ones were. Though, now that I think about it, 8 wasn't so fluffy afterall, was it: -). Anyways, enough mindless ranting and onto the story (and disclaimer!)._

_**PS:** (Did you notice how everything I put in parenthesis was followed by an exclamation point at the end?)_

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own PJO or any of its characters. Alright-y then, let's get this show on the road!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

**Theme 09: Drive**

"Annabeth... you're...so..." he panted between breaths, face flushed and practically dripping with sweat.

"**_'So'_** what?" she heaved as she wiped the gathering perspiration from her forehead. Scarlet tinged her face, and her heart felt caged up in her chest as if at any moment it would leap from her throat.

He stood there for a moment, hands on knees, staring her down, but a grin stayed plastered on her face.

Today was the end of a lot of things: camp, summer, and the relay, the last part of the Camp Halfblood Triathlon— the biggest event of the entire summer. The cabins were split into two teams: red and blue, and this was the last part of it all: _The 400 meter dash._

"So **_dead_**, Wise Girl," Percy finished with a crooked half smile.

"Oh really?" There was a glint in her eye, menacing and challenging all at once. Then, before he knew it, she took off down the track, a flashing red baton clutched in her hand.

"Wait— how did—"

"**PERCY!**" thundered a voice from behind, "_GO_ already!"

He was startled to see Thalia, impatient and sweating, viciously thrust a bright blue stick into his hands. "**Get your butt** _MOVING_ **ALREADY YOU LAZY IDIOT!**" With an encouraging and rather rough shove, he scampered down the track, the sun beating down at his back, and his heart racing to catch up with his feet. Annabeth was too far away by now.

Face contorted into a sort of angry determination, Percy clamped his eyes shut and dashed after her. His grasp on the baton turning his knuckles white. His legs didn't seem fast enough, he tried to push through, tried to be quicker than his body allowed.

Suddenly, the already blaring cheers exploded into ear-splitting chaos. His eyes popped open to a flurry of blonde hair, and he knew he was right on top of her.

He tried to look ahead, but instead kept glancing over to see if they were still even. And then suddenly, her head whipped around, and she smiled, waved, and then narrowed her eyes, surging forward in a rush of blistering summer air.

With a grunt, he pushed on. Eyes stinging with sweat and a new anticipation as he once again caught up with her, roars thundering from the rest of camp, blaring rowdy and boisterous through the sun's blaze.

He couldn't feel his legs anymore, but he didn't care. He let his breathing grow fast and haggard as his heart beat pulsed through his eardrums. The finish was so close, just one more step, _leap_, _**jump **_to the end.

With one last upsurge of energy he burst through the finish, drenched, and fatigued, and sprawled in the dirt, but he was sure he had won. He was actually pretty smug. That is, until he heard:

"_Now_ what are you smiling about, Seaweed Brain?" What an eerily familiar voice. He turned over in the dirt, hoping it wasn't who he thought it was.

No such luck.

Beside him, Annabeth lay in the same pathetic position, fingernails encrusted in grime, a pathetic and weary grin sitting on her own face. Strands of golden hair were plastered to the sweat rolling from her forehead down to her chin, and the rest of her hair was matted down alongside her in the mud. She looked pretty grungy, but also, he thought, impossibly... _pretty_. Whatever **_that_** meant.

The moment was appropriately (and relieving-ly) ruined by the deafening screech of a whistle. Silence overcame the camp as everybody turned to Chiron who let the whistle fall back around his neck.

"Campers," he began, "This race was very close, so close that we cannot clearly tell who has won. It's a tie." Both teams groaned, but he continued on. "We will have a rematch after a nice lunch and today's cabin activities." There was a large bit of murmuring and hushing before the campers finally started talking, laughing, and yelling their way over to the dining hall.

Annabeth then stood up, brushing off her shorts before extending a hand to her equally grungy opponent. He glanced at her skeptically before grabbing hold of her hand and pulling himself to his feet. "Good game, Seaweed Brain." she stated matter-of-factly, but with a placid smile still on her face. He nodded and then, all at once, his face brightened up a little.

"Hey, Wise Girl."

"Yeah?"

"Race you to lunch."

"You're on."

And with the exchange of equally determined looks and quiet laughter, they were off.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

AN: Okay, well, it's technically Monday now, (but only 40 or so minutes too late (12:39 here)) but I REALLY tried to get this out by the weekend (sososorry!). Oh yeah, here are the things I was going to say about the chapter that I didn't want to say at the beginning!

**Ahem:**

1) This is the thing that would bug you if you read it at the beginning and then read through the story: _THERE'S TOO MUCH SMILING_! Annabeth grins, smile plastered on her face, blablabla! But maybe I'm just being paranoid because it's so late.

2) How was the end? I was kind of stumped on how to end it, but I hope this was at LEAST okay. If I get inspired later, I might change it (but it's not likely unless you really give me some awesome suggestions (winkwinknudgenudge))

3) Tell me if the racing part was ok. I ended up just sticking to Percy's POV in third person (if that makes any sense...) since it seemed way too messy for me to be dealing with both perspectives. Yup. Hope the race scene was sort of an adrenaline rush (it was for me when I was writing it, but I had such a hard time finding a fast song to write to D :).

Just in case you wanted to know... **THE NEXT THEME IS...**

**Breathe (again)**

How will I ever manage it!?

I will definitely put up review responses in number 10, just too tired to do much right now : ). Hope you enjoyed it, and maybe you can give me some ideas on the next theme?

Happy belated St.Pat's and Happy 2-week Late Birthday (to myself and anyone else born in early March : P),

Phyco girl


	10. Breathe Again

**_AN:_** Anyways, THE TITANS CURSE(or whatever the next book is called...) IS COMING OUT SOON! I just realized this today. Am I a bad fan or what? Shouldn't I be counting the days or something? (Truth be told, I don't even know which day of May it's coming out on...). But, that aside, hope you guys had a good week and like this chapter!

-Phyco girl

_**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own PJO, this goes for all future chapters. Eh, who am I kidding? Can't fanfiction just put at the top or bottom or wherever of every story that BLANK does not own BLANK by BLANK? How hard would that be? Not very, I'm thinking._

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Theme 10: Breathe Again**

Everything was still. It had been like that for the past twenty minutes.

Her eyes peered through the thick, glass pane as she bit at her lip in anticipation. This had to be the most _menial_ thing she had ever done, and she had a sinking feeling it would stay that way if something wasn't done about it. Wrinkling her nose, she scrutinized the situation for the umteenth time and raised a steady hand to the window.

She pounded on the glass. It creaked and shuddered beneath her fist for awhile before something stirred and she swiftly leapt out of the way. Her breath caught in the back of her throat; her spine seeming to stiffen as she inched her way back across the railing.

And a pair of eyes were squinting back at her. She drew a sharp breath and forced herself steady, hands trembling, as she felt him scan the railing before turning his back on her and ruffling his already unkempt hair.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she managed to settle herself against a wall and exhale. As she looked back again, she wondered why she hadn't just let him see her there on the fire escape. It's not like he would have attacked her or anything (and if he _did_, she had a killer right hook). Besides, he hadn't even closed his blinds yet, so she could still stage an entrance if she wanted to.

Yes, this sounded like a reasonable plan. Nodding to herself, she let her back slump against the wall and wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. With her Yankees cap clutched gratefully to her head, she began inching back towards the windowpane, hand at the ready. She was prepared to signal a second time when, with his back still turned to her, he started to tug at his pajama pants.

Without a second thought, she scrambled back to her former position, gaze averted in the opposite direction of the window. She struggled to take a deep breath in and then force it right back out. The heat started to rise in her face, but the harder she willed it to stop, the more flustered she became.

_Why_ was this happening? It's wasn't like she... liked him or anything. He was like a..._brother_ though technically, he was her... _uncle.._. sort of. And, that would be... well she HAD liked Luke, but, technically, it was just...

Another deep breath.

Besides, it hadn't been **_HER_** fault that Percy was too stupid to put down the blinds, or is that just how they did things in New York? Either way, she was ready to get out of there.

Daring one last look through the window where, thankfully, Percy stood fully dressed, but now staring towards the glass with a look of inevitable confusion, she clambered down the iron steps and onto the street. No one noticed as she lifted her hat, surveyed the crowd then the apartment, and headed towards the front door.

And with one last breath, she was gone again.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

_AN:_ Alright, so reached the 10-way mark (finally)! _Well, the next theme is..._

**Memory**

Yep, so while I brainstorm on that, please review! Pretty please!? (By the way, thanks a ton for all of 'em, almost 50!) Thanks a ton everyone!

-Phyco girl :-)

EDIT: (4/11): Took a look back and decided that I just had to do something about the beginning. Hopefully it flows much better now!


	11. Memory

**AN: **Sorry, sorry! This took forever to get inspiration, but once I had it (with the help of **The Titan's Curse** (I can't believe it shipped in today—April 29th! I already finished the whole thing today too, it was great!)) I was ready and rearing to go! This contains slight spoilers, but you won't understand them until later anyways if you haven't read the book. **This part takes place on page 299**, just for your reference! **Well, have fun reading it, I really love this piece personally!**

-Phyco girl-

_**DISCALIMER:**__ I don't own PJO—Also I used some of the dialogue from the book and the part about the slow song sounding sad but hopeful too... except I changed the punctuation, but just wanted you to know: those parts aren't mine:D _

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Theme 11: Memory**

It's over.

I'm glad about it, don't get me wrong, but also insanely bewildered by the whole ordeal. A trembling hand reaches to my scalp and tugs on a lock of hair: I pass it in front of my eyes.

Not that I'm conceited or anything, but I can't help but wish it were gone. Wish that none of this had ever happened.

My hand recoils, and the strands of limp, grey hair fall back with it. I don't know what to feel right now. Happy? Sad? Proud? I'm not dead. Percy saved _me _for, well, another time if you count everything that happened last year. Luke isn't dead either, I know it.

I also know have to save him, even if he betrayed me. Even if he tricked me, I have to. He's been cursed by Kronos; but he survived that fall. I can feel it. Maybe it's just the nuance of nostalgia, all those years I fawned over and admired him. It's something that, no matter how hard I try, I can't let go of. All the memories we share are _still _important to me, even if I don't want them to be.

I'm shifting through the crowd, past all the cheering Olympians and Gods. Before I know it, I'm breaking into a run like I'm looking for something, and my mind is racing, but I can't grasp why. I push through the groups of jolly faces until I spot someone I know, and I call out to him. It's Percy.

He turns his head and I see who he's been talking to. His face is flustered and maybe a little angry... or desperate. All at once my feet stop and my mind comes to a halt. I know who it is: my mother._That's _who he's been talking with? She leaves with a warning look and a few parting words for Percy, and he just looks confused and extremely uncomfortable. I can tell they weren't chit-chatting about the weather.

"Was she giving you a hard time?" I ask, but he just assures me everything is fine. Too bad, I know him better than that. Then, as if by instict, I step closer, studying his face in unease and forgetting my earlier thoughts. Sighing, I touch the new threads of grey in his mess of black hair. We match.

"So," I start, bringing my hand back to my side and recalling our audience with the Gods, "What did you want to tell me earlier?"

He turns away for a moment, gazing into the crowds of laughing people all dancing joyously throughout the streets of Olympus, and then he looks back at me, a little uncertain. "I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall. And... I think I owe you a dance." Again I can tell he's lying, biting his tongue in lieu of something more important, but I smile in spite of myself and don't question him. We've already been through a lot today.

He takes my hand, but he doesn't seem nervous like at Westover. The nine muses are playing their music, gracefully strumming their harps and letting their voices twine together in a sort of harmony. But everyone's hearing something different: classical for the older, and hip-hop for the younger, it depends, but to me it sounded like a slow dance. A little sad, but maybe a little hopeful too.

So, for now, I'll forget Luke, Thalia, and all the things that have happened to me. I can forget all those memories, how I was betrayed and used. Just for now. I can always remember later. I'll close my eyes for a moment, grasp his hand a little tighter, and just focus on making this new, impossible memory.


	12. Insanity

**AN:** Sorry! Things have been crazy with exams and the formal coming up, but I PROMISE once summer comes: once a week peoples! Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are awesome. I told one reviewer that there would be, like, total fluff( but, err, more serious fluff) in this, but it was hard since the theme is _**insanity. **_Yup, but I hope you enjoy it and, well, here goes! (It's kind of serious this time though...)

**Disclaimer:** _I hate... Mary sues, Gary sues, and being sued (though I've never really had the full experience before, you?)... so, please don't!_

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Theme 12: Insanity**

Waiting.

Waiting and bearing such an unbearable weight on her shoulders. Her legs already collapsed and her knees scathed; arms crushed as fingers tremble, and it all showing in the furrow of her brow. Hands are clenched and twitch beneath the heavens... And now she's just waiting.

Her eyes are shut tight, but in concentration, not pain. She can almost see it: her own reflection, weary but willful. And now she can almost feel him with her, a friend.

Maybe.

Maybe she's just going insane from it all. Perhaps she's focusing too much. But maybe she isn't. If she can let herself unravel, she can almost clutch at the notion. It's funny, she can see him stare her square in the eye, and feel her mind go blank. But when it does, he's somehow clearer, eyes fixed on her intently. Maybe. It _could_ be just her imagination, a mirage spurred from will instead of reality. But one thing's sure.

She won't be waiting much longer.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

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Yup, so that's it! Sorry it was so short /tear/, but it's just one of those ones that can't be drawn out or it sort of just drags along. Let me know if you liked it or what in your review!

**Before I forget**, just figured out you can interpret this different ways. I'll let you think on it, but FYI when it's talking about the "reflection" yadayadaya, it's when Percy was dreaming about everything in TC about her... empathy link-ish, neh? Oh yeah! And the next theme is...

**MISFORTUNE!**

Hurrah!_ Well, TTFN! __**–Phyco girl-**_


	13. Misfortune

**AN:** Okay, I'm going to be gone on vacation for the next week, but I'll try to write something by then and then post it by next week...but so far I'm really stuck on this one. Ugh, I guess I'll go look in a dictionary, which usually helps (Errr... don't ask...).Anyways, here we go!

_**Disclaimer:**__ I. don't. own. PJO._

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

**Theme 13: Misfortune**

The sun sunk slowly into the hills, breaking the sky into a disarray of colors, and the heat was gradually melting the soles of their shoes as they slowly ascended the climbing wall. The girl bit her lip as she gracefully swung herself up to the very top of the obstacle, while the boy grunted as he struggled to scramble up the ledge. Sweat dripped into both of their eyes, stinging, as they heaved a final weary breath.

"Doesn't it remind you of everything?" she comments as the sweltering heat softens and grey eyes wander over the landscape. "Thalia, the quests, Luke..."

"Mmmhmm." he mumbles with fatigue, but she ignores the blatant exhaustion embedded in his voice.

"Just looking from here, I can remember practically everything about the moment I came to camp." Impatient, she pokes him harshly in the shoulder and he seems to straighten up a little, leaning out to meet the landscape.

"Too bad I don't remember much of mine... It was like I was in a daze or something," he answers, legs dangling over the edge as a hand aches and pushes back the strands of hair still sticking stubbornly to his forehead. She responds by doing the same, flicking a wrist gently along her temple just to restlessly pin him with her grey-eyed stare again: nonverbal communication at its best.

Dead silence follows, broken only by the crackling of lava far beneath their feet, the sparks flying and crawling into the crevices of the climbing wall. She sighs warily as if irritated to have to say it out loud, "Go on, Seaweed Brain."

"Err, so, then I kind of stumbled across the Big House—"

"'Stumbled, _really_..." she interrupts, delivering a knowing look as his face grows red and he mumbles something inaudible under his breath.

"Well, _anyways_, the rest is a blur. I woke up a couple of times and then when I was finally really awake, the first thing you said to me was—"

"You drool in your sleep.' Expect something more revering, Percy?" He looks taken aback at the fact she's just cut in again, Annabeth was usually pretty patient...

"_I _was going to say, _'You're my hero.'" _he replies, leaning back on his elbows, a goofy grin surfacing, "Guess you caught me again, Wise Girl." She wastes no time in slapping him across the back of the head, satisfied and smiling.

"Ouch, what was _that _for?" She simply swings her legs against the ledge and glances his way.

"Well, any more psychological problems that need fixing?"

"As you can imagine, I was feeling pretty unfortunate by then..." he grumbles. Nodding, she looks down towards the bubbling lava and sighs, glimpsing up again with eyes laughing despite her eminent frown.

"So, it was unfortunate you met me, hmm?" Startled, bewilderment is written clearly on his face. She just snickers, breaking into a smile, "You don't have to answer it y'know, Seaweed Brain."

He shakes his head, "I guess, sort of. My self confidence ended up going down several pegs after meeting you, Wise Girl."

"I didn't know I was such a threat to your ego, Seaweed Brain." she counters, "About me meeting you... well, it _was_—"

"_Extremely_ unfortunate?"

"Hmmm..." She seems to be pondering the question and disorientation crosses his face again,"Percy?"

"Yeah?"

Her gaze it turned downward, towards the sea of sputtering, red muck."We should _probably_ ring the buzzer..." She points out a rift in the wall, only feet from where they're sitting, spitting glowing embers. A thick and sluggish magma fervently seeping from between the cracks.

"Oh," his gaze wanders back to hrt, "Hey, Wise Girl, you never..."

"We'd better get going, " she states dryly, blonde hair sweeping across her shoulders as she turns back to meet him, " Ready?" Reassuring laughter rests in her features and he nods as the lava bubbles and cools.

But as for the question? She frowned as she thought of this, hands mindlessly going from rock to rock and mind whirring like an Athenian's often does. Let's just put it like this: in some ways Percy Jackson has brought a lot of misfortune into Annabeth's life. After all, fate doesn't often make for happy endings. But then again, if she had never met him, who would she have been sitting with?

Nobody else came to mind.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

AN: Yup, so that's #13! It was hard to think of one for this--- but I guess I did it (though I don't know if I did it well...) I'm in kind of a rush, we have to leave for the airport in an hour and I'm still in my pajamas! Ughh... oh well. Well, this one was 686 words, so at least it's longer!

The next theme is **Smile**... that should be easier! (Already, the ideas are flowing in!) Expect a new update next by June 18th! (Assuming you guys review).

Have a great Summer,

Phyco girl


	14. Smile

AN: _Major update!_ **I EDITED CHAPTERS 1-7 AND CHAPTER 2 IS AN ENTIRELY NEW STORY **_since I realized that I didn't really like the original, so check it out! Anyways, as promised, I'm updating only about a week after returning from vaca! And as always, thanks for all the reviews! You guys rock and I hope you all like this chapter (Hoorah!)._

_Disclaimer: Don't own it_

**Theme 14:Smile**

Smile.

He's not stupid. Well, maybe a bit dense, but definitely not an idiot. He knows she can do it; stretch her lips upwards until she's laughing or rolling her eyes and trying hopelessly not to. Sometimes it's when she's won another argument, triumphant, with just one side of her mouth quirked up. Or maybe when she's off sketching; building more imposing towers from another imaginary city, holding her world out in scrutiny until that approving grin resurfaces.

And lately, much to his frustration, she's been faking it. It's so obvious even Grover noticed, and he's usually too obsessed with Pan or perfecting _Hit Me Baby One More Time_ to catch on to most things. How could you not when she's always looking towards the dirt, or her shoes, or at some dead worm or something? And for months now they've all seen her like that, the line never wavering, but always set in that stern way.

"Hey, Wise girl!" he calls one day, the Posiden porch rail grasped tightly under his palms. She doesn't seem to notice from where she's sketching on the steps of Athena's cabin. Frustrated, he ambles over to her, deftly pulling the blueprints from her fingertips.

"Hey!" she grumbles; angry, and annoyingly surprised. He usually isn't so ecstatic to provoke her. Scowling, she crosses her arms and glares, "Do you _really_ want to get on my nerves today Seaweed Brain?"

She makes a good point...

"What's going on, Wise Girl?" he counters effectively. Her face falls and she's suddenly mesmerized by her tennis shoes. Again.

"Percy, _what_ are you talking about?"

"You're not being yourself lately, Annabeth. Just tell me, whatever it is... we're friends, right?" She sighs and looks him in the eye for the first time in weeks.

It was what he was waiting for, wasn't it? For once the entire summer her lips turn up into a smile, but this time she isn't laughing, she isn't sarcastic, and she certainly isn't triumphant. This time she just looks miserable.

Her eyes stray from her shoes and pin him where he stands, expectant. Sighing, he snaps up the pencil at her side and scribbles a question, four letters that, somehow, mean so much to her.

Luke?

"Not just that. Everything. " She shakes her head in a failed attempt to rid the sorrow blatant on her face,"... _You_ know..." Not knowing what else to do, he takes a seat next to her.

He's a traitor, a liar, a cheat, and the biggest scum of Western Civilization. Unfortunately, he's also one of Annabeth's oldest friends, probably her first..._gag_...'love' too. And she wanted to know if he understood that? He glances at her, her head bent low and blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, and shudders at the thought.

Yeah, he does.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

AN: Yup! So, that's it I guess. Hope you liked it! You know what I noticed? I always have to have that weird ending line all by itself when I finish a story. What's with that? Also, when I was editing the first seven chapters I realized how much I used unnessesary adjectives. I mean, "binding darkness?" What was I thinking?

Well, anyways, hopefully you'll please go back and read chapter 2 and review on this chapter! (And if you want to leave a review for 2 that's fine too, you can put it in with your review for this one if you like... if you're reviewing)

Oh yeah, and **the next theme is SILENCE**! I'll be sure to update soon (2 weeks min... it used to be about 4 X.X!)

Till next time! (Which hopefully won't be a long time).

-Phyco girl

PS: **For those who get the email notices**, when I edited ch.1-7 I deleted the old ones and added the edited ones on and then fixed the order so it looked normal again... that was before I saw you can actually switch out the old chapters with the edited ones so... OOPS! SO SORRY, just ignore those email notices for chaps 1-7 except for 14 (which actually is new) and, well, it won't happen again!


	15. Silence

_AN: Thanks for the reviews_ **Pyro-Demon, Hera's Princess, cursed kid, The Fifth Champion, **_and _**Akela Musafir**! _I hope everyone had a great 4th! Over here the fireworks were amazing! Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter, I'd appreciate any feedback you guys have._

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO... for the fifteenth time.

**Theme 15: Silence**

It's a Wednesday night at camp and Percy is coming towards me. Inwardly I groan. Seaweed Brain is about to ruin _everything._ I've been keeping my mouth shut since seven this morning and he is NOT going to break me. At least if I have any say in it.

Considering, I really don't. But it isn't my fault, I told him about this!

"Hey Annab–"

Palm.

"Uhm–wait, what are you–"

Palm!

"Okay...Are you alrigh–"

PALM.

I muster up my most venomous glare, and can see my siblings give him a sympathetic look from where they're seated at Athena cabin's dining table. I swear to the Gods that right now I'm dangerously close to strangling him. I guess that's what you get for befriending such a space case: constant frustration.

He glaces both ways, left then right, and twists his face up in confusion. "Did I do something?" Rolling my eyes, I shoot the rest of the table a desperate look.

"Look... Percy," one of my younger brothers, Daniel, pipes up as the others lose interest and fall back on brisket and conversation. "You guys made a bet on who could be silent an entire week, and you're not allowed to taunt her or anything like that during her week so..." Daniel tilts his head towards me, and I can literally hear the gears turning in Seaweed Brain's head.

"You were serious about that, Wise girl?"

I roll my eyes. _What do __**you**__ think, _is my imaginary retort.

"Hey, don't blame me." he counters, hands up in defense, "I thought it was just another... I didn't think you **actually**– "

I raise an eyebrow._ I told you we were definitely having the bet __yesterday__ Seaweed Brain!_

"Guess I wasn't listening." _What else is new?_ "Well, you did decide to go first, so I guess I'll just start next week like we 'planned'?" he rambles, trying to make the words stick in a way that makes some morsel of sense.

I toss him an exasperated expression in return and shrug my shoulders. _**Fine**__, Seaweed Brain, but it wouldn't hurt to listen next time._

"Aye, aye then Cap'n."

_Not funny_. I swear, that idiot...

"Yeah, yeah, Wise girl. I get the point."

I can't help it; a smile tugs at the corners of my lips and stretches into a grin. Perhaps more devious than intended because he says, "You're just drooling over the chance to watch me suffer, aren't you?"

_You're the one that drools._

Sighing, he mumbles something inaudible under his breath before speaking again, "Fine. You win... I'm starting now then." I watch Daniel hastily scribble down the time as Percy mimes zipping his mouth shut.

But wait... how long has Daniel been paying attention anyways? And, for some reason, I have the oddest notion that I'm being watched. Hesitantly, I swerve around and notice for the first time that it's dead silent; the other campers are watching us in amusement. Percy must talk louder than he realizes...

"PETER JOHNSON!" Percy snaps his head up and all eyes fall on him. On the bright side, if he replies he loses.

I grin.

Dionysus is obviously amused, but holds his stern expression despite it, "Sit back down at your table and stop causing a commotion! You can flirt with your little girlfriend _after _dinner." I can feel my smile drop to my stomach, and Percy's face is flushing as he trudges away. I'm either deathly pale, or the heat rising in my cheeks is making me even more scarlet than Seaweed Brain.

The minutes tick painfully by. Though, eventually, everyone seems to settle down. But what was Dionysus _thinking_? Flirting... with **Percy?**

This is so stupid.

I get a few concerned glances from my siblings, especially my half-brothers who stop to glare at Percy a little, but I just sigh, shaking my head. They get it and leave me alone, and Percy catches my eye from across dining hall. He rolls his eyes in Dionysus's direction and after checking over either shoulder, discreetly pulls a face.

_"Sorry about that, Wise girl."_

Did I just hear voices or is that just me putting words in his mouth?

_It's not your fault,_ I seem to say in my head, _but is it cheating if you can still understand me? _I'm looking at him, but I have no idea what sort of face I'm making right now. Is translating his actions against the silence rules? He seems to be thinking this over before throwing me a sideways glance.

_"Is it?"_

_Who cares,_ I shrug, _Just shut up, Seaweed Brain, I can't sort out my own thoughts with you blabbering_. We exchange last glances and he motions an A'OK sign my way. I smile to myself.

Finally: perfect silence.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

AN: Yeah, so if you didn't catch that:

_Annabeth's imaginary retorts_

_"__Annabeth's interpretation of Percy's body language"_

Just normal, Annabeth's POV

"Just normal converstation"

_I have no idea where this idea came from. Anywho, hope you guys had a great 4__th__ and that you enjoyed the story! Phyco girl :D_


	16. Questioning

**_AN:_** Hey guys, yes the impending guilt was just too much and I had to update, despite it being 2:40 AM. Just a reminder, **I'm going to be on vaca.** for two weeks, from July 28th to August 11th. However, there's going to be internet access so **I PROMISE. Absolutely, positively, poke-my-eye-out-with-a-stick PROMISE to update AT LEAST ONCE, perhaps twice within those two weeks.**

My apologies for failing to update quickly like I should, and I admire those who can, but if you've been with me on this one from the beginning, you should know I'm horrible with deadlines. Anywho, enough of that! **Enjoy sweet 16 theme: Questioning :D...**

_Disclaimer: There have been 15 entire chapters with this little line detailing my loss of owning anything, including PJO._

_'Nuff said._

**Theme 16: Questioning**

They've always been so opposite--- she with her hair swept neatly off her shoulders and piled on top of her head, just as alert as always; he with sweat dripping down his face from the hot summer sun and eyes half closed. A sort of subtle silence sinks between them, settling lazily somewhere in the wild patches of grass and conspiring weeds.

It's here: eighteen. Their last summer as kids, and neither with a clue what to do next. Sure, there's college, a good paying job, and eventually settling down in the house with a white picket fence– the cookie-cutter American dream. But truthfully, the only thing that stands out are these summers; most of what's left is subjected to white noise anyways.

"We can always come back," she pipes up, finally saying what both had been thinking, "Luke stayed until he was nineteen, just until he...well. You know," Her head rolls to the side, tennis shoe repeatedly nudging him in the ankle.

"Quit it, Wise girl..." he groans, opening an eye to glare at her foot,"Eh--were you saying something?"

With a roll of her eyes, she answers, "I was _asking_ if you're coming back next summer, Seaweed brain."

"Always, why wouldn't I be?" Drawing out a yawn, he turns to face her, "The only thing getting at me is what I'm going to waste the _rest_ of the year on."

"Well, I hope to the Gods that doesn't mean you're considering living with your mom and forgoing college," she quips, eye brows raised, "You know, you always _were _too spontaneous for your own good."

He shakes his head at the thought, trying not to laugh. "Nah, I got into NYU... didn't I tell you?" She nods and he leans back on his elbows, and silence reins once more until Annabeth pipes up again.

"Hey, Percy, did you know Columbia and NYU are only fifteen minutes away from each other?" she queries, smiling as the thought dawns on her, "If you want I guess we could meet up sometimes. There. That's your entertainment for the rest of the year."

"Not too bad, but just sometimes? Well, why not all the time?" Her smug expression is quickly thwarted by confusion.

"What?"

"Well, an apartment would be..." he mutters, suddenly lit with boyish excitement, "It can't be _that_ hard to find one. We could get one, be roommates." She looks at him like he's crazy.

"_We_?"

"Yeah, we should probably start looking at listings, hopefully we can find one for a good enough price. Is there any way we can use the mist for this? You know, to haggle?"

"Percy, that's– "

"Yeah, yeah. Wrong. I know, Wise girl. No mist then."

"Percy, maybe you should— "

"Be a little more honest, serious, less idiotic. I know, if you've said it once you've said it a thousand times. Now, how are we– "

"_Percy!_" finally catching the boy's attention, she sighs and trails on, "Isn't this all kind of... sudden?" He seems to consider the question, but ends up shrugging it off.

"Is it?"

What was _that _supposed to mean? They couldn't just, out of the blue, decide to rent an apartment together. First of all, it would be weird, wouldn't it? And secondly...

Unsuccessfully, she tries to sort out her own whirling thoughts. Percy's not helping much either; she can feel him staring at her–waiting for an answer. She frowns.

"Why do you keep answering me in questions, Seaweed brain?" He just grins.

"Am I doing that?"

She scoffs at the sight of him, just pausing long enough to come up with an adequate retort, "I _knew_ you were too impulsive for your own good." But maybe, though she will endlessly deny it, some of that reckless spontaneity is starting to rub off on her because her next words surprise even herself, almost to the point that she can't believe _she's_ saying them.

Before she knows it, she's sighing in defeat for the first time in years. "So, who's going to send us the newspaper listings?"

It was the last question of the day.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

AN: OK, so I just HAD to take a stab at a future fic. Oh, and yes, NYU and Columbia University are about 15 minutes away from eachother :D (according to mapquest)! I did my research (partially, though I have no idea if CU is a good school or what).

So it's different (future fic), but the same (loss of mentioning names, third person, weird one sentence ending line, Percy and Annabeth sitting in some random spot at camp talking...) Maybe next time instead of them sitting in some random field they could be doing some sort of activity.

Enough of my rambling! Hopefully you saw the notice I put up top where I mentioned my two week vaca! But, **also, I'd like to worship you fans, and thank you a bazillion times! 100 reviews OO... (plus four!) I feel like I should do some sort of extra oneshot or fanart or something. We'll see :D**

An update will be up sooner than usual! Thanks for waiting those horrible three weeks out and I hope you all have a great summer, it's coming to a close (tear) DX.

-Phyco girl


	17. Blood

AN: **Alright, it's like 4 days late, I know. Here's my excuse, it's valid too! Well, if you don't want to hear it, then skip on to the story but, err, here it is if you do: **

The excuse was cut as it was 3 paragraphs long. It's stuck to the end, so if you want an amusing little quip from me and a very, very sincere apology, it'll be waiting there :-). **As always thanks so much for all the reviews, favs, and alerts, feedback is fuel (as is caffine)!** Though, to all those alerters: don't be afraid to leave a little comment, or not, but I always want to know what you guys are thinking!

Love to all the reviewers who have stuck by from the beginning! I'm working on the update thing, gradually I'll get better :D,

-Phyco girl

_**Disclaimer:**_ I'm giving the rights to PJO to my brother for his birthday, don't tell Riordan. (Err, that was a joke...don't sue... though it really is his birthday)

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**Theme 17: Blood **

I can't breathe.

The cause? The stench of rotten eggs and the boy's locker room all mixed in one—aka Parfum Eu de Cyclopes, and I'm choking on it. That's probably the only reason I know I'm hanging upside down from Polyphemus's massive hand and not the rope above his bubbling "Mango Chutney" cauldron.

The giant is shouts something, his breath like spoiled milk and garbage on a hot day, and before I know it I'm reeling, struggling to stay conscious. My upturned view is murky to say the least, but I can still catch a glimpse of Percy, Clarrise, and Grover as I fight the oncoming nausea. Hold on... one of them is approaching Polyphemus's lair—Percy. That idiot! Stupid, _stupid_, **_stupid!_** Had he not seen any of the earlier events? Is he really that dumb?

Ugh, don't answer that.

I'm yelling now, or trying to at least, but my shouts are diminished to desperate rasps. Percy fails to notice my frantic flailing and is instead whispering something to Clarisse. Gods... what is he whispering anyways? Are he and—are they—but... My face is burning, and I have the sudden urge to somehow get down there and K.O. Clarisse in the face with a strategically placed fist. That'll teach her to—Oh, Hades, I must be delirious. Surely they aren't... Wait! Grover sees me!

He's... waving?

I groan; what have I gotten myself into? The blood rushes to my head as I struggle to peer downwards, "Hey, Ugly!" Percy shouts, staring up at the towering giant. I sigh, _Stupid Jackson_... of course, Polyphemus turns around, swinging me wildly in the process, and by now I'm sick to my stomach. "Put down my friend, _I'm _the one who insulted you."

"PERCY!" In a fit of frustration, I try to scream but, again, nothing comes out. I bob up and around at the monster's rapid gestures as he whips his head violently around.

"_You_ are nobody?" the giant inquires. I sigh, exhausted. Now Percy is sputtering out some lame insult, oddly confident, and as the giant roars, his grip slackening and before I know it, I'm flying through the air. _Finally!_ I'm free, I'm relieved, and I'm going to be okay...except I'm headed towards hard, cold, stone and there's no way to brace myself. Oh Gods, I'm dead, I know I'm going to be dead in a matter of milliseconds. There's a sickening crunch and an awful pain sparking in my head, there's blood everywhere, I'm sure of it. And I can't see anything: what, or who, or where, but I know one thing.

I am _not _okay.

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A groggy feeling settles over me. It's so strange waking up after being nowhere for so long. Wait, if I'm awake, that means I'm alive. This doesn't make any sense, that fall should have been, to put it simply, it.

Either that or I'm having an out of body experience. But, no, it's strange, but I'm sure it's real. There's Clarisse with her arms crossed, a foul expression on her face. Grover and Tyson are off to the-- Tyson? Wait... isn't he dead? Oh, forget it, considering what happened to me, it's plausible. Percy is closest and is somewhere inbetween sitting and kneeling; his eyes are shut tight and he's muttering something about me, promising, and the word brilliant? I really have no idea what he's just said, I'm a pretty slow at the moment, but a sort of heavy warmth is settling over me, spreading through my veins and to my fingertips...

It's the golden fleece. Right. I can't believe I almost thought---

Hmm, I think they've just noticed I'm awake; Percy looks kind of shocked, really...

You know, this may seem random, but this kind of reminds me of Snow White in a way. The part with that guy who was supposed to rescue her or whatever...Anyways it's the happy ending part with all the goblins, or elves or whatever all gathered around. Actually, Clarisse bears a striking resemblance to Grumpy.

Oh well, forget it. I feel about to drift off again anyways. Even though I'm in a sort of fog, I can still tell Clarisse is rolling her eyes, probably because Percy's persistance to stare at me and look astonished, always knew he was an idiot... but that doesn't matter. I'm ignoring him now, Clarisse just said something, and I'm straining to read her lips:

"Hades... It's like a fucking fairytale." as she says this Grover looks a little scared and inches away, glancing hesitantly between Percy and I, "He may as well kiss her and get it over with. Wimp."

Whatever _that's_ supposed to mean... but something clicked right then, though I have no clue what it was. Did she just say _Hades likes watching fairytales while kissing a pillow, and that he's a wimp?_ As I said, I'm not my sharpest right now, but if she did then I'm sure a band of half-blood-thirsty monsters will be on our tails soon enough.

I sigh. Oh well, at least I'm not bleeding.

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**AN:** Hope you enjoyed that, I liked writing it. It turned out better than I thought it would... only took me about 2 hrs to edit and type. Yawn, I'm tired... but here's the explanation if you wanted it:

EXPLANATION:

_So, on vacation I had a laptop I was working off of, but then, POOF! My dad decides to take it back to the house when he left for a couple days in order to go to some business thing-a-ma-bob. Anyways, the laptop is out of commission, but I already have my idea. I'd written an alternative chapter 14, so I was going to use some of that idea. I was going to write the theme when we got back that afternoon on the 11th. So, I get on the upstairs computer where ch. 14 alt. is stored, we have a wireless mouse up there, I turn it on, it seems to be working and then I try to move it._

_Nothing. So I use the tab button to navigate and then I can't open any documents using this method, also the MSN messenger (which I don't even use) kept popping up and I couldn't close it without my mouse. Ugh. I'm obviously POed, but I decide to wait, and wait, and wait. I couldn't stand it any longer and I felt immensely bad for breaking my promise with you guys, so I decided to just go ahead and get this done today!_

_So, here it is. Sorry it's a few days late, so sorry, but I hope you all aren't mad with me!!! I know you were probably scanning the PJO section for an update...you probably weren't, but that's just me being concieted, haha, so sorry. I'll stop that now._

FIN

_**Oh, next theme is: Rainbow**_

**Thankfully, this is the end of this really long AN, hope you enjoyed the story with much love and many, many apologies... I'm going to take a nap now :-), **

**-Phyco girl **


	18. Rainbow

_AN:_ Alright, so I was originally going to have this revolve around an iris message, but then I thought—how boring, how predictable (and I honestly just didn't feel like writing it). So, with inspiration from FifthChampion's 8th chapter, I took an unexpected (or at least interesting, I hope) turn and made this chapter about something else entirely. Sorry for the late-ness (writer's block and busy-ness abound! Plus my wonderful beta was also busy which led to lag, but all is well :D), hopefully it's worth it!

**_FOR THOSE WHO DON'T KNOW:_** Go Fish! is a card game where, well, Wikipedia it if you must know, and Uno is another card game except played with a deck of special cards that you buy specificall to play the "Uno" game. The cards are blue, green, red, and yellow. Again, Wiki it if you desperately need to know guys.

**Last but not least, thanks tons to my beta, bloomingauthor7, for all of her suggestions in this chapter!** Have fun reading Theme 18 guys, love your reviews as always, and without futher adue...

_Disclaimer: But this pesky discalimer. No, I don't own PJO ;-)_

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**Theme 18: Rainbow**

"Ready?"

"Are you?" With eyes narrowed, she sweeps up her stack of cards and shoots him a wary look, "Any threes?"

"Go fish. And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" he retorts; she snaps up a card from the top of the deck, and her mouth settles in a triumphant grin. She folds down a pair of identical cards.

"Well," A thoughtful look flits across her face, "You aren't normally one to be prepared, Seaweed Brain, if you want me to put it bluntly."

"Prepared for _what_?" He asks, confused as always. She's never really made sense to him, "We're only playing _"Go Fish"_ if you hadn't noticed, Wise girl. Any kings?" And her lips curve upwards in a sympathetic smile.

"Prepared for me to win, of course... Go fish."

"Whatever." he moans, glowering at the card he's just drawn. She rolls her eyes.

"Stop moping; any sixes?"

He scours his options, frowns, and wiggles a card out in front of her, "...Here. Any twos?"

"Go fish; any tens?"

"Alright... Any eights?"

"Go fish; any aces?"

Glancing into his hand, he grins, "_Go fish."_ And then with a smile nothing less than smug, "Any fives?"

She rolls her eyes again and draws another card, "Go fish; eights?" She peers up at him, his face twisting this way and that, and admittedly looking a bit nauseous. It's a minute before he seems to catch his breath.

"Wait, did you just... _what?_" he scrambles to his feet, struggling to compose himself, and stares down at her, "I just asked—and _you_—how did—"

Sighing, she sets her cards in her lap, "Well, basically you told me to _"Go fish"_, I pulled a card from the deck, and it happened to be an eight. I honestly can't believe you're getting mad at me over a little card game." He glances at her, disbelieving, before turning to the deck of cards stacked neatly in between them. He appears to scrutinize them carefully before turning back to her and shooting her a suspicious look.

"You fixed the game, _didn't_ you?"

"_Excuse_ me? Are you insinuating I _cheated_?"

He takes a few steps back, "Well, didn't you? I mean, come on, you already have four pairs and I have zero! That's impossible!"

"How would _you_ know it's impossible? Did you figure out the odds or something? Why would I go through all that trouble just to win a game of "Go fish"? That's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard in my life!"

"Well—"

"Why would I even need to cheat to beat you? You're head is so full of kelp that—"

"Look, I'm just saying this sort of thing--"

"_Is impossible_, I heard your little 'accusation' the first time." She grits her teeth, her arms crossed severely against her chest. Her nails are pressing into her skin like ten angry pokers, but she doesn't seem to notice or care. And then, fixing him with her cold grey stare, she turns on her heel, a flurry of golden hair behind her. "I'm leaving."

He's feeling more _stupid_ than mad. He has the common sense to look for her or... or _something_, but he ignores it. Why does she always have to be right? Why does she always have to win? It's like she's always held all the cards, or at least all the good ones. No one should be able to be right like that all the time. It just isn't fair.

But, Tartarus-- since when has his life been fair?

And all at once something's tugging at the corners of his brain. Thoughts turning to jelly and whirring and animated in all directions. Fruitlessly, he tries to ignore them, but can't over the... the _pesky_ noises coming from outside.

_Shuff, shuff, shuff._

He tries to ignore those too, but fails. And so, much to his displeasure, he pulls himself up and walks outside instead. The cabin door squeaks open, and he wanders onto the porch; shoes _thud_-ing carefully along the floorboards. At first he doesn't see much, just the weathered wooden floors and a curious group of worn deck chairs. He scans the rest of the veranda cautiously, taking in a breath of musty summer air, and then, straining his neck just the tiniest bit to the left, he sees a flash of golden hair. He freezes.

As expected, she's there in the farthest corner, blonde hair tucked behind her ears and shuffling a new deck of playing cards. Happily ignorant of him, or at least looking to be, she knocks the stack of cards twice on the porch rail and gingerly fans them out before her. Tapping a happy tune over the rainbow of cards, she clears her throat.

"A-_hem_..."

Somehow, he manages to move again, gods-know-how, and sits down across from her. She stops her tapping but doesn't look up. Still looking at the floor, she gestures to the cards and takes a deep breath. "Uno?" She's trying to be nonchalant, but it's one of the few things she's not good at. He grins.

Sure, Annabeth Chase was always confusing, always challenging, and almost always right, but that didn't mean _he_ couldn't have a clever answer for things sometimes. Well, at least clever (or corny) enough for a Seaweed Brain.

"Only if I get to shuffle this time."

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_AN: Wow, this theme went under A LOT of revision. I seriously went over this one numerous times, (well, 4 to be exact) because I couldn't quite get it down how I wanted. Hopefully it's good enough for now, knowing me I'll probably tweak it over the following week! In fact, I feel so horrible that I'm putting up Theme 19 within the next 1 or 2 weeks. :D The following theme is..._ **GRAY!**_ Haha, I already have something in mind for this one so, look out!_

_See you guys soon, thanks so much for everything guys! I swear I'm going to get this done early... or at least on deadline!,_

_-Phyco girl_


	19. Gray

_**AN**_ Hey guys, forgive me... AGAIN. sigh School is busy this year, I lots of lovely projects, tons of after-school activities and clubs, normal homework, and fundraisers, so the last couple weeks have been mind-numbing as all you other in-school authors know!

The reviews were great, as always, love you guys. Whenever I get a review it just makes my day! So thanks to EVERYONE for all the support, and to bloomingauthor for letting me know that Percy was just not in his own vocabulary. You guys are awesome, and, as always, here's theme 19 just for you!

_**Disclaimer:**__ Don't own it, never will. But, hey, all the fun without the responsibility, right?_

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**Theme 19: Gray**

Gray, for me, was always a neutral color. It built up the stony apartments and cool sidewalks of Manhattan. It swirled over the sky in daunting clouds, and lined the cracks in Mom's wedding china. It was the dusty VCR, it was the color the carpet turned when Smelly Gabe moved in, and, ironically enough, it was the color Gabe eventually turned himself. It wasn't anything special. But things change. Everything changed. And I don't know exactly when it did because, really, there's no exact moment. Either that or I can't remember enough of anything to say so.

But I do remember part of it, or at least I think I do... We were lying in the strawberry fields that day, fruity notes drifting on the warm breeze overhead. I breathed in the humid summer air and let the grass brush the very side of my face, my head falling to the side. I swear my nose caught a bit on your cheek, but you didn't move an inch. Your eyes didn't flutter and your nose didn't crinkle, you just lay there in profile.

Squinting a bit, I studied you for a moment, backing up in the process (admittedly, I was a little too close for comfort. Sorry, but, hey, in my defense, those fields are pretty narrow). Your eyelashes rested softly on the top of your cheek, and you were still as stone. Actually, you always were when you focused on one thing for too long. But you definitely weren't asleep, no, your breath was too shallow, and you were mumbling something under your breath. Briefly, I remember wondering what it was, but was either too shy or uncomfortable to actually ask.

I forced myself to look back on the wave of clouds above, trying not to think how close you were or how your ankle was leaning against mine, how your arm pressed into my side, or even how some of your hair had drifted onto my shoulder. And honestly, when you're fourteen and have just been informed you're supposed to be in love with a girl you've, well, possibly had some thoughts about before, it's not a long road away from embarrassment. Especially when the goddess of love is involved.

I sighed and held my breath for a moment, trying to be as silent as possible, straining to catch the words that fell on your lips, and simply at a loss for what else to do. But it was impossible. There was no way I could decode anything if you kept whispering like that. And then something amazing happened.

Okay, okay, so it wasn't really amazing, but it _was_ a little strange. It was as if I had called out my frustrations to the universe and the universe had heard me and then actually _done_ something about it. Suddenly, you furrowed your brow and groaned, heaving yourself onto your elbows. Disoriented, you seemed to stare into space, distracted, before turning your penetrating gaze onto me. Your sharp grey eyes seemed to pierce my thoughts, and I grimaced of the idea that you might actually know what I was thinking. But instead of your lips curling into that sarcastic grin, you just sighed.

"It's stuck in my head..." you grumbled under your breath, your palms pressing into your forearms as you crossed them tight against your chest. Then you flipped onto your stomach, digging your elbows into the cool earth and resting your cheek against one palm. "_Well_...?" You said, looking down at me, expectant, and in an effort to keep breathing I kept my gaze trained on the sky.

"Hmm?"

You rolled your eyes, "Aren't you going to ask me about it, Seaweed Brain?"

"What are you _talking_ about, Wise Girl?"

Scoffing, you nudged me hard in the side, your blonde hair tickling my neck, "Do you know who Ella Wheeler Wilcox was?" I managed a blank look; you sighed, letting your elbows sink deeper into the grass. And with one deep breath you let your eyelids fall closed again, muttering, "You like buttercups, dewy sweet, and crocuses, framed in snow; I like roses, born of the heat, And the red carnation's glow. Ring a bell?"

Your eyes flickered back open, that startling gray again, "Uh—what?" I obviously wasn't catching on, "...You like roses?"

"_No!_ Well—yes, actually," you grumbled, agitated, "But the point is: that's one of her poems, which is perpetually stuck in my head, and refuses to _un_stick."

"Just... think of something else for awhile." I found myself suggesting, though I didn't know how great_ that_ advice was, considering how it was working out for me. You appeared to consider this, turning onto your back again and resting your head against my shoulder. I swear I turned beet red, but you didn't seem to notice.

But then you started laughing, that silver-bell laugh I both dreaded and anticipated. Aware that you had possibly discovered how awkward I was feeling, I grimaced and prepared for the worst. Instead you turned to me, recounting the time I had knocked the entire punch bowl onto us at the Olympus Ball last winter. I nodded along as your eyes swam with memories of the past year's adventures. But I was too busy to listen, my eyes grasping at our surroundings. Your stone-colored sandals cast off to the side and sterling earrings, glinting in the summer sun. How your silver tank top came in at all the right places, or those heather gray eyes shining up at me. And then the glossy strands of silver clinging to your otherwise golden head. I think that's when I knew that, somehow, over the years different things had become important.

But I'm not so sure. I never was very decisive. You always teased how it was one of my worst qualities, until you later grew serious, constantly reminding me that I was a hero. Then again, I never knew much; that was always your job. You were the half with all the answers. The only thing I know is that I waited too long.

Because now I'm standing here, like an idiot, in front of a stone, unloading all my feelings and thoughts when, really, I should be down in Hades demanding a conference with you. The guy still owes me one for saving Nico's butt before went off and sentenced himself to his own demise. But I went ahead and brought you your roses because, if I remember correctly, you liked them well enough. And I liked you, loved you actually. I'm still in love with you. And I miss you. I'll always miss you.

So, are you going to take me up on this offer or what? Come on, before I change my mind, Wise Girl.

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AN: Wow, I actually got that one out pretty quickly once I got rid of the dread and was determined to write it. Sorry for the long delay, I'm HORRIBLE with deadlines (procrastinator). Thanks a ton and I hope you guys enjoyed it!

-Phyco girl


	20. Fortitude

_Updated 2/23/08 with help from beta, bloomingauthor_

**AN:** I admit. I sucked horribly these last few months. I can't even begin to say. Of course, **I could blame my computer** (which crashed), my **illness** (the flu, which isn't so bad most of the time, really), or the fact that November was **NaNoWriMo** (I was trying to write a novel, okay?). But, all of that aside, it is my fault for doing HORRIBLY with deadlines. Especially when I'm the only one holding myself to them.

First of all, **I would love to thank Blooming** for being supportive and patient, even if she didn't beta this one (just finished it myself, it takes time, editing your own stuff is tedious), she deserves it for all the times I put her through the ringer, absolutely promising that today, neigh this MOMENT would be the time I would post theme twenty! So wrong...

Would **also like to thank all of you reviewers**. I can't believe I was getting reviews in February from some people, that they would dig all the way back to stony ages and read this. Thanks tons. I've lost track of the reviews, that's how wonderful you all are. Now I need to scope out the new fic-grounds myself as it seems there is definitely a plethora of fiction out there now. The more the merrier, right? (Hopefully that is true in this case as well).

Lastly, **the theme is FORTITUDE which means COURAGE**. Thought I'd let you know. Annabeth unravels a mystery, should be interesting. Enjoy! (Probably one of the fluffiest non-fluff I've ever written). It's also supremely long, 9 pages after I typed in all my revisions. Theme 21 is _**WAR.**_ Knock yourselves out.

Love, P.G.

_Disclaimer: I don't own PJO_

**Theme 20: Fortitude**

It was Saturday morning, and I was dead tired.

For the life of me, I couldn't recall _how_ I had rolled out of bed. Or how I was pacing across the kitchen floor. Even how I could be sipping my coffee because I didn'tremember brewing any. Absently I blew at my mug and sighed. It had been like this for the last couple of weeks. The only silver lining was that by now I knew what I was in for.

I let my mug touch to the counter top, nervously entwining my hands and resting my eyes closed. A useless attempt to calm the forthcoming stir in my head. It was always around this time of day, an hour out of bed, that something in my brain would close the space between another part of me; a domino out of control. And I was powerless to stop it.

I breathed in the smell of New York City and sighed.

I guess it made sense in a... twisted sort of way. How my life was turning out. I mean, I'd been friends with Percy for as long as I could remember. And that was just it. For most of that time we were, well, _kids_. Things had always been a certain way between us. Or maybe...maybe there was this tiny, impossible part of me that knew better. That, in its highly irrational state, threatened to commit highly irrational acts. But then again, maybe it wasn't irrational at all. I don't know. You can see how confused I get when it comes to these things.

But, the most frustrating thing was even when I chose to give in, to acknowledge it, nothing went right. I guess there hadn't been much to get right in the first place, but it hadn't been the best start either. It wasn't passionate or..._anything_ like those novels Silena had given me for Christmas last year (_never_ trust a gift from one of Aphrodite's daughters). I'll admit, they certainly aren't the best reference material, but... Gods, what was I _expecting_? Trashy cover-to-cover romance? Maybe. Even I didn't know.

Not like it was Percy's fault that everything went wrong, _really_. If I had to pin it on anyone it would probably be Grover...three weeks ago. That's when the headaches started. It was the last day of camp, and we were both counselors. Probably only because we were too childish to stay away and admit that part of our lives was over.

It was pitch black that night, the summer breeze warmed my cheeks, the sand cool and damp against my fingertips. We were at the beach. My toes dug into the shoreline, my legs sticky with ocean sweat. Percy sat next to me, completely dry, which had never ceased to bother me even after all these years. The only sound was the waves, bubbling there like a million tiny fountains, the swells murmuring quietly against the coast. And, though it may have been my imagination, it seemed that, there was this underlying tension, lurking there. It made me uneasy.

Then... it happened, and I've been regretting it ever since.

My palms dug against the sand as Percy spoke. But to tell the truth, it seems I can't remember any of the words spoken in those few minutes. My mind seemed a jumble of unrelated thoughts. I remember rolling my eyes and turning to him. And then the strangest feeling. He didn't say anything, no reply, just looked at me in this...funny sort of way. His green eyes calming. I felt my throat go dry, suddenly thirsty. I ached to look away, but for some reason I couldn't. I couldn't move, I couldn't _speak_. My hands had left solid ground, my heart was burning a hole in my chest, my head was humming and I...

"_There_ you are. I've been trying to find you two for half an hour!"

Grover.

_He had been looking for us, we were missing the last campfire_, but I wasn't really listening, instead opting to stare through the darkening depths of the ocean. For some reason, it felt like my stomach dropped a little. Like there had actually been butterflies there. I probably wouldn't believe it if it weren't for the oncoming nausea. The strangest, most peculiar expression flitted over my face. I could practically feel it there; a nuisance pulling my lips into a frown, furrowing my brow in thought. I remember Percy helping me to my feet. Fumbling for his hand and pulling away in record time. Trying to get out of camp just as soon as possible for the first time..._ever_. It was a relief to pack up the Jeep and drive home for once, though the nausea did not go away.

Home was an apartment complex; a dull brick building hunkered out in the heart of the city. Really, I still can't believe I let him talk me into moving in there. But don't misunderstand, I was happy– I loved the open windows. How the light flitted and filtered in, bathing the floors in sunshine and lamplight. The great beams crossing overhead and the constant chaos of the kitchen, plastered with cheap china and faded cabinets. The mossy couch that we'd lugged over last year from Percy's mother. And then our bedrooms, both packed away tightly. Mine calm, comforting, the scent of sandalwood forever fresh in my sheets. Percy's, well... I don't know how he managed to sleep in there every night. If our rooms were pushed together, we would look like Hermes cabin all over again. Actually, the contrast between us might almost be funny if not so confusing. But, no matter how calming, it was most recently in my room that I grew the most uneasy. I lay awake, my head sinking into the down of my pillow, pondering what had happened with every sleepless inch of my being. Nights were restless.

I sighed into my mug and pulled it tight to my chest, the heat filling me with a feathery warmth of the Folgers variety. The morning light filtered through those widespread windows, throwing beams of light at my feet and swirling the dusty air about me. Boxes were still everywhere. Being constantly lived out of like cardboard suitcases. Making barriers across the room. Blocking away tables and chairs. And added with all the byproducts of summer? They seemed like a nuisance. A nuisance.

And I needed a clear head.

Shifting onto my feet, I padded down to the pile of boxes awaiting there, resting my mug on the counter with a determined _thud_. If I could lead a half blood army into battle against the Titan lord, I could certainly do this.

I reached downwards, heaving a box into my arms. It teetered uneasily there as I poked it upward with a knee, struggling to keep it from tumbling to the floor. My elbows ached from the movement, but it felt... it felt good. Box by box stacked into towers. Towers stacked into skyscrapers. And skyscrapers stacked into cities. I couldn't help it. I felt a smile tug at my lips and shook my head. It had always been like this for me. Architecture, organization, in anything was always somehow relieving. Percy teased me mercilessly about it...

Breathing in, I straightened myself out, staring bravely back at my own small accomplishment. I stepped forward some, hesitant, before coming full circle, touching the sandpaper edge, digging my fingernails into the packing tape and pushing half moons into the crevices. Pulling tape like bandages, peeling it back over my shoulder until it fell away, sticky, from my fingers. Their edges came apart easily, bursting into Styrofoam packing peanuts at the chance, and I plunged my arms in elbow deep to meet them. Feeling for an object, a treasure hunt.

My hands slipped over hand-me-down china, the blue glaze barely chipping, and old silk dresses. There was the one from sophomore homecoming, senior prom, even last year's Holiday cocktail party, slim and coal black over my arm. Thin grainy pages threatened to tear as I grasped battered handfuls of books between my fingertips, struggling to push them up into the dusty oak shelf that sat in the corner. The Iliad, the Odyssey, those heavy architecture books Percy had gotten me over the years. The oldest ones from back before college, before _high school_. I pursed my lips, thoughtful; I must have the entire collection by now.

Nico's art was probably the hardest thing to pull. He'd somehow painted them last month for Percy's birthday, and I swear that kid was the next Picasso. There were two of them. I had no idea as to what he meant them to be, instead content in admiring how the entire picture had been built, block by block. Percy seemed to have a better idea. He had strained a smile in Nico's direction when they were given to him, it looked almost painful. Nico seemed to understand his discomfort.

"Hey, no hard feelings," he assured, "Just...you were in this one, it's personal history, yeah?" I didn't even begin to try and interpret what _that _meant, squinting at what looked like a desert junkyard, complete with a menacing golden giant. That kid had one wild imagination... I dusted them both off and hung them in the kitchen nook. There were Grover's salt shakers, the mahogany ones he had carved complete with little pictures and their captions, and then there were Percy's and my old chariot plans, and one of Mrs. Jackson's manuscripts. Everything was pulled apart and categorized. Dissected until my city was null and void.

There was only one box left. It sat, lonely, on the old cedar table. I watched it silently, my hands resting on my hips. There was something hesitant about it, this sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. A warning? No, I laughed to myself, probably just nervousness that all of this junk would look garishly out of place. I wrinkled my nose at the thought. Hopefully not. There was a pull in my chest, a clutch in my throat. I took a deep breath and dove in.

I wasn't as surprised as I should have been. No gasp, no shock, just... I felt the weight of it and groaned. No wonder it was all the way at the bottom. My fingers brushed the edge of it, grasping it with slippery fingertips as the glass cover stuck to my clammy palms. I felt the dread bubble up. The grin tug at my lips.

Thalia had always known better.

-------

"**HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" **

I should have known I was in trouble at those two simple words.

We had trekked across the camp grounds to find, well, everyone. The bonfire crackled, igniting a countless number of expectant faces. I suddenly felt queasy. What was going on? Did they...? I rejected that thought, trying to forget I had ever thought it... From the corner of my eye, I could swear I saw Percy turn green.

He looked surprised alright, but then again he usually was at these sort of things. Even if he was twenty, he was no more mature than he'd ever been. He stood there, paralyzed beside me, as Thalia stared at us, squinting. She was beginning to look impatient. But then... she was _grinning_, crossing silver and black banded arms across her chest.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say," she suggested, looking annoyed and maybe a little disturbed, though I couldn't see what the big deal was. She knew Percy almost as well as I did. This was typical behavior. Though, even with her hint, Percy was still unresponsive. It took a few seconds and a good hard nudge in the ankle to pull him from oblivion and back into the real world.

"Huh? Uhm... Oh," he mumbled, looking over the range of fire-lit faces, illuminated only by bright orange flames and... strobe lights? He smiled a sheepish grin, "Sorry, I was just so... surprised."

Thalia rolled her eyes, "That's the point Seaweed Brain." I heard her murmur, and, I must admit, I felt a little annoyed, though I'm at a loss for any such reason.

"I can't believe this," I said, partly trying to make up for Percy's apparent lack of words. But nobody seemed to notice the awkward silence of the birthday boy, instead preferring to scatter themselves over the scene. There were tables set up and party hats and drinks, brightly colored streamers hanging from some sort of invisible thread. Thalia's favorite, punk rock, blared in the background, the fire flickered green, and... was that Silena flirting with Connor Stoll? But I ignored all that, making my way over to the others and focused on making amends. Percy followed quietly behind me; he was acting stranger than usual, "You did such a good job– how did you plan it?"

Grover paused to study my genuinely interested face, "Annabeth, don't you remember? I told you about it yesterday," he whispered, seeming truly concerned. Too bad he said it loud enough for everyone to hear. I heard Thalia choke on her drink due to the obvious hilarity of my situation, it seemed that she hadn't matured much either...she and Percy were just too alike. I couldn't get out of there fast enough; tipping my head in _so-long_ to Grover, until I was swallowed by the techno blaring in the foreground and the faces floating aglow, bright by the now monstrous white flames.

The birthday boy had been pulled off to the other side of the fire. He was being chatted up by Nico who was flourishing wildly in all directions and making several suggestive eyebrow motions in time. Percy simply looked amused at the antics, clanking plastic cups with the boy and downing his drink distractedly. Why did this worry me? What was my aversion to all of this? Feeling unusually anxious I nibbled on my neon colored straw, pushing the little paper umbrella askew and... _staring_.

"Don't get _too_ distracted," Startled, I turned, my drink sloshing dangerously off kilter. It was Thalia. Her lips were quirked suspiciously upwards into a knowing grin, her head tipping discreetly in his direction...She didn't think that--?

Suddenly my face felt hot, like I'd left my cheek against the stovetop. Uselessly, I tried to calm the red in my face, promptly downing the rest of my drink only to feel the cool pass directly down my throat. No such luck. Had I really been that obvious? Had there really been something to be obvious about?

Thalia simply grinned at my embarrassment and clasped a hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry so much. Really, it makes _me_ worry about you," and this time she was serious, no smile. I nodded quietly as she turned swiftly on her heel and marched off and out of sight. But, no. _No._ I refused. I would not. I couldn't... _do_ that. It was, I was...sane, wasn't I? Was I? Gods...

I stumbled into a green lawn chair, struggling to find my balance. Somehow, I managed to set myself down, the hustle closing in around me, suffocating. Smoke curled and winded off the great fire, and it was suddenly hard to breathe, or maybe that's just when I noticed it. My hands were trembling violently as I settled my head in my cold, clammy palms. Hair slipped easily from my shoulders and hung like a wet curtain, sticking to the sweat at my neck and leaving my shoulders exposed. Hot wisps of summer air floated, lashing over my back. I took a deep breath, feeling the smile tug at the corners of my lips. So this is what they call a nervous breakdown.

I didn't give her half-enough credit.

-------

I thought I had seen her, pushing an extra package in the back of the Jeep, snapping the trunk closed like she was doing us a favor. Waving us off, even coming to camp in the first place that day, after all, she was a hunter. Suspicious for sure.

I traced the edge of the slender frame, looking down at our frozen faces thoughtfully. My fingers smeared the dust off the glass as, tracing the sunlight in the corner, the steps leading up to the Big House porch, and the faint wisps of shadows dancing in the background, thrown into spirals by the sunlight. I remembered it. Under the glass, my own eyes turned away from me, unblinking. Laughing and flickering skyward, my lips curving up despite myself. Suddenly, a terrible feeling came over me, a wrench in my stomach. Like I was without something. I squinted into my own oblivious eyes, searching.

-------

The sun beat against my shoulders, it was _the day_. Squinting against the sunlight, I held a curved hand at my brow, the shadows falling over my nose and dragging across my chin. "So this is it." I mumbled, the words scratching uncomfortably at my throat. I must have said it at least at least a thousand times already. I'm sure Thalia would have rolled her eyes just the same had she heard me, but then again maybe she wouldn't. She had left here herself a long time ago.

"Stop stressing about it already, Wise girl," Percy yawned, stretching his arms out over the Big House steps with ease. I balked at the lack of worry in his voice, turning to him and bluntly sticking my tongue out at him. Out of an immature routine if anything. Of course, immediately afterwards I mentally slapped myself as he smiled a crooked grin, it had been exactly what he'd wanted.

Percy sat up, looking me doubtfully in the eye, "You're still doing that?" he asked.

"So what if I am?" I replied, looking up from under my eyelashes, as if I didn't want to waste energy on him by looking him straight in the eye. My shoulders loosened downwards and my lips pursed thin in annoyance. Daring him to interject. It worked.

"Alright, alright," he answered, shrugging and looking away and about the Big House, seemingly distracted by the watered down conversations of our fellow veterans. The hoards of campers gathered on the steps, their luggage leaning at their sides. Those predictable good-byes and so-longs. But there was something about his face. He looked..._satisfied. _It was unnerving. But I wasn't so easily fooled. He swung his eye back to me, taking another heavy breath, "If you want to look like that in the picture." Startled I looked up, bewildered. Picture? What was he--Percy grinned and waved to someone in the distance.

That _bastard!_

Tyson was fumbling with a human-sized camera, the contraption looking very breakable in his Cyclops hands.

"You did not. Percy, please tell me you **didn't**," I demanded, fists clenched.

"Why?" He regarded me softly for a moment, unsurprised, "You've been complaining about leaving for the past week and a half."

"I have not, I was–"

"I know you think I'm being way too normal about this, I just can't help but _not _worry about it," He was looking out ahead now. His elbows leaning over his knees, "Even if everything seems like it's over for good, it never its right? You and I know that better than anyone." I stared at him then, in his bout of seriousness. The smile was drawn off his face. His eyes flickered back to me for a moment, cautious, and there was something strange about it. So reverent, it was scaring me.

"What I'm trying to say is...enjoy it while you can." Blindly I nodded. I guess... I already was.

The flash went off.

-------

I could see my face there, reluctant, shy, in that grudging analytical way of mine. I frowned, I had never been very photogenic. My knee was soldered to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around my thighs. Thalia always teased me about it. "Like you're guarding your heart. How corny is that?" And maybe she was right. Thalia had gained a lot more perspective in the passing years than I ever gave her credit for. But what reason had she had for giving him this?

My eyes shifted to the right where Percy sat next to me, his face turned slightly my way. But something bothered me about it. Something that was eerily familiar. He didn't look goofy like he usually did in photographs, or even stupidly unaware. I mean, he wasn't looking at the camera; he was just looking towards me in this relaxed sort of way, if that make any sense. Just peaceful. It was strange. I'd almost swear I'd never seen him anything like it.

_Smoke curled and winded, it was hard to breathe. Maybe that's just when I noticed it--_

Immediately, I let go of the photo, like suddenly the glossy frame was smoldering, blackening my fingertips. My palms were clammy, slippery, and my heart beat loudly, propelling me backwards, my wrists shaking with my pulse. I wanted to collapse there, I was just tired. Instead, I sunk further into the countertop, my head throbbing, and counted the seconds until I took a breath, letting it out in a shudder.

My shoulders trembled as I caught my breath, standing up and pacing the kitchen floor. My hand dragged across the wall, stirring the beige paint. I froze, but I could hardly stand it, it was dizzying. My palms were slippery despite myself, the doorknob clumsy between my knotted fingers until I let go. My joints ached, and my heart was still. I stepped away, squeezing my eyes shut, and leaned back against the wall, my head resting there, straining to stay put. It shouldn't be this hard. Gods, what was I doing? None of it should come close to being this hard. But it was.

"Percy? Are you up?" I whispered. My voice was raspy, the words were strained and they sounded all wrong. I hoped he hadn't heard a thing I had spoken.

The door gave way.

"Yeah," he said, stepping out into the open and it was obvious he was tired. Obvious he was wondering what I wanted. Why I was here... and so _early_. He considered me with tired eyes, "What time is it?"

What time was it? I had absolutely no idea. That was the last thing on my mind. I shifted feet, crossing my arms and look over my shoulder into the kitchen. I knew I shouldn't be, but I felt a little miffed that all he could ask about was the damn _time_. Boys..."I found Thalia's birthday gift to you. I was unpacking."

He looked surprised then, eyebrows raised in a disjointed sort of way. Unfortunately, it wasn't for the reason I'd been expecting, "Are you alright, Wise girl?" he asked, and caught me off guard. Apparently it was _my_ face that had looked all wrong. I must not have answered because soon enough he was shaking me by the shoulder, "Annabeth?"

"Yeah," I answered, startled to find I was a little breathless. Words were lost from me. They bubbled at my lips, fizzing under my tongue. I sighed, leaning my chin at his shoulder which he took in the usual manner. Letting me do what I wanted, standing still, but it wasn't... so awkward. I looked past him and out through the window. "I just...you know." I could practically see the look on his face, the puzzlement there. He pried me from his shoulders, holding me out at arms length. I felt strangely like a newspaper, as if he were busy trying to read me. But...he didn't look confused. Not at all. Instead he considered me silently, studious, and looked at me in that strange way again.

"Would you quit _doing_ that!" I wanted to scream at him. And I almost did. It was tearing me apart when I couldn't figure it out. Couldn't figure _him_ out. But instead I was patient, steaming in my own quiet world. My lips were silent. Waiting for it.

And suddenly, I just wanted to throw it all out the window. Throw a tantrum. I don't know what it was. Gustiness, stupidity? Definitely not courage, not fortitude. But it's alright; I got what I wanted.

So, then again, maybe it was.


	21. War

_AN: Thanks to bloomingauthor07 for the beta._

**Theme 21: War**

I still wasn't sure why I was there. I mean, Percy had called a couple of days ago. Something important, he'd assured me. I was to meet them at the Java Moose as soon as possible, preferably the following day at noon. I had obliged, though somehow I felt uneasy.

_Them_.

My grip visibly tightened on the mug. Coffee. Usually I hated the stuff, but today I could make an exception. I had the right to be bitter if I felt like it. I glanced at the clock above the doorway and frowned. 12:10. They were officially ten minutes late.

It had been easy enough to find my way here. Percy and I had visited this café, a quirky coffee house in the heart of New York City, just last month in July to talk to the… _mortal girl_ about the Labyrinth. A quest _I_ was supposed to lead, but that I had ended up following instead. I wasn't one to hold grudges, but I hoped to the gods that it wasn't _her_ who was tagging along.

I had just tipped back the last of my drink when they walked inside. My face fell, though I wasn't surprised. They sat down opposite me. Percy was right across the table, but he wasn't looking at me. Instead, his head was tipped just slightly to the left. He was smiling, a stupid sideways grin on his face. His companion, a girl with frizzy red hair, was looking down, suppressing a giggle. I took no time in speaking up.

"Well," I said. The girl looked up, as if surprised to see me there. Percy cleared his throat and turned to me. Their smiles disappeared.

"Uh, Annabeth, do you want to order—," he started, but stopped immediately when his eyes drifted to my empty coffee mug. "I mean, do you mind if Rachel and I—"

"Go ahead," I interrupted, ending his misery. Rachel leaned over and whispered something in his ear, he grinned. I balked.

Just…order two shots of espresso for me. _Please,_" I mumbled.

"Yeah, sure…But you never order—"

"Percy, look! There's no one in line," I exclaimed, abruptly standing up and pulling him along by the forearm. He didn't resist, gracelessly stumbling over his feet in the process.

When we were far enough away from the table, I turned on him, "What is _she_ doing here?" I whispered. The girl in question was staring at us, obviously amused. He sighed and stepped closer to me. Somehow, I felt as if he were the one cornering me and not the other way around.

"Be nice to her." He paused, as if expecting me to interject. I didn't. "I have something really important to tell you. About…the prophecy, something Nico told me, but I can't if you keep on like this."

"If it's so important, then what is a _mortal_—"

"She already knows," he admitted. My breath caught in my throat, and I looked away. He had told her before me. He and I had been friends for years, but…. I felt dizzy. I closed my eyes and focused on my next words.

"Just…don't talk to me. Give me a second."

"Annabeth…" He sounded tired, frustrated. His hands were on my shoulders in an attempt to hold me there. I easily shrugged him off, stepping away from him and towards the table. I tried to ignore the mortal girl as I stared out the window and onto the crowded sidewalk.

"You know, he's just trying to figure you out." She had surprised me. I certainly hadn't expected her to speak. I looked up to find she was smiling. My expression must have given me away because she laughed and raised her eyebrows at me. "You're a girl," she explained, "You confuse him, especially because, well." Immediately I understood what she was implying. She didn't look particularly happy about it, but managed to shrug it off.

"Oh." I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. Lately, things between Percy and I had been awkward to say the least. Only weeks ago we had left Camp Half-Blood and I had admitted…I had…

"You don't have to look so surprised," she teased. Suddenly, she looked up and smiled, "Speak of the devil..." Percy was balancing two smoothies and two shots of espresso surprisingly well. As I looked down at my wayward decision of a drink, I realized just how annoyed I really was.

"Mortal gi—I mean… _Rachel_," I started. I ignored the pointed look Percy was giving me, instead staring at the smoothie she was currently sipping and secretly salivating, "Why did you order a…" I wasn't quite sure how to end this without sounding petty and completely retarded. In any case, she seemed to understand what I was getting at and shrugged. Though she tried to hide it, I could easily see she was getting annoyed.

"Well, Annabell, when I heard you were coming, I decided it was a special occasion," she smiled and took a long, drawn out sip through her straw, "Now, why don't we get down to business?" I nodded absently, clenching my teeth, and, as I saw her look longingly at my drink, tipped back the glass, and sighed as if in delight.

Two could play at that game.


	22. Mother

_AN: Finally, an update that isn't three months in waiting! A bit short, but this was originally supposed to be a drabble series anyways. You can imply the P/A situation here._

**Theme 22: Mother**

The curtain fell between them the moment she was born. A precaution. The gods didn't have favorites; they never had.

As a girl, she figured she wouldn't mind much. So her mother was absent - never mind feeling unwanted, a feeling that seemed to grip her with both hands. After all, it was impossible to miss something you had never had...But logic wasn't comfort, no matter how much she wished it were.

Even now, as she watched his mother's face break into a smile. As the woman clasped Annabeth's hands in her own, eyes twinkling in the hooded glow of the table side lamplight, she couldn't help but wish someone else were in Sally Jackson's place.

"I'm so happy but...I really can't believe it," Sally laughed, sinking back into the sienna-curried cushions with admirable ease, "I almost thought I would have to have a talk with Percy before he got up the nerve to do it. Who knew he'd be brave enough."

"I know what you mean," she relented, watching with tired wonder as the steam rose from her teacup in bleary circles; a fog clinging to the marbled glass of the coffee table. Small talk. She could do this.

It wasn't that Percy's mother was someone she had a hard time talking to. In fact, it was quite the opposite. She had found herself revealing much more to Sally Jackson than she'd ever thought she would.

But it was painful. Because Sally was all that she had secretly wished for in her own mother - terms which had never quite been fulfilled, and a hope that she had retired long ago. Sally was a real person. A warm personality and confidante, whereas her own mother remained a distant shadow. A deity.

If she had made these thoughts visible, Ms. Jackson hadn't noticed, or at least hadn't said anything about it. Instead, she seemed to be admiring something, eyes riveted on the slighted view from the second story window; a likeness of the living room reflected poignantly against it.

"You know," she started, her voice traced with something that, though familiar, Annabeth couldn't quite place, "I've always wanted a daughter."

She was surprised, if anything, and was sure that it was easy for the woman to read. But...for all her anxiety, Ms. Jackson seemed neither shocked nor offended, simply quietly understanding. It was in that moment that she felt as if she had been looking at it all backwards. Wanting something she had known all along.

"Thank you Sally," and she smiled, beatific, for the first time that night, "You know I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *


End file.
